


Oracle's Runner

by OperaGoose



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Never Met, F/M, Goodbye Sex, Kinda, M/M, Messenger Prompto, Time Travel, ambiguous ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-15 02:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaGoose/pseuds/OperaGoose
Summary: In an AU where Prompto never befriended Prince Noctis, he is the only one who can smuggle the Oracle out of Insomnia. He ends up by her side, and vows to see her destiny completed even if he has to do it himself.





	1. First

After the fall of Insomnia, Prompto snuck as many refugees out of the city as he could. It helped he had a magic key that unlocked Niff doors. 

He lived far enough from the City Centre that his home remained intact. He had a whisper go through the city that he could open the blockage. Soon his living room was full of people fleeing the city, in varying states of injury and health. 

After a few days, the exodus slowed down. Then he was visited by an elderly man with a can - a small crowd of people hiding in the stairwell trying to look incognito in ill-fitting clothing. “You the one who can open the blockade?” His voice was fancy. Citadel-refined. Prompto didn’t think **any** of them had made it out. 

“That’s me,” he confirmed. “Bring everyone in - it’ll be a few hours until the M.T.s shut down for a shift. You guys have papers?” 

“We’ve got adequate documentation, yes.” 

He held the door open, and gave a gesture for the group to come in. “Hungry? Thirsty? Need me to make a run to the Laundromat?” 

“I’m hungry.” The speaker was one of the smaller figures - bundled in the clothes of a teenage boy. The voice was refined too, but feminine. 

“I’ve got some Cup Noodles in the cupboards for now - but I’ve got stuff to trade. I’ll grab some vegetables, might be some tinned meats.” 

“I’ve some Crowns…” One of the adult-sized people offered. Middle aged, wearing a pair of spectacles. 

“Economy’s crashed,” he answered. “Don’t worry about it.” He grabbed his bag of the tradeables. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. If there’s a knock on the door, there’s a false back in the cupboard that should fit _most_ of you if you squeeze.” 

He got a series of shallow bows in thanks. Shaking his head, he told them: “This far out we just say ‘thanks’. As long as you’re going incognito, I’d tone down on the bowing.” Giving them a smile, he ducked out of the apartment. 

There was an incident at the blockade. As he was opening the gates, there was an airship that dropped a fully armed battalion of M.T.s just outside the gates. He was entirely unsurprised when the two middle-aged people jumped into the fray with previously concealed weapons drawn. Called it - Crownsguards! 

He swore and knocked the three younger people behind him and yanked the pistols out of the holsters on his hips to join them in the fight. 

By the time his kin were smoking remains on the tarmac, the blockade had sealed closed behind him. 

He slung a couple different kinds of abandoned guns from the scraps on the ground. Turning to the group, he said: “There’s some cars up ahead at the Checkpoint. Anyone know how to hotwire?” 

A resounding silence was his only answer. 

He laughed slightly. Uptowners. They never had any _really useful_ life skills. “Follow me.” 

A few miles ahead, at the checkpoint, they were greeted by barking. One of their party broke free, kneeling as two inu-something dogs rain forward. They jumped to her and the hood he’d been wearing the whole time fell back. 

A gasp shuddered out of him. “That’s Lady Lunafreya!” he hissed. “The Oracle!” 

The younger teenage girl - still dressed in the hilariously oversized Moogle hoodie - gave him an awkward smile. “You didn’t notice?” 

***

The white inu remembered him. Not so Tiny any more. Her name was Pryna - her counterpart was Umbra. He came and went, bringing a red notebook that made the Oracle smile and cry. 

Ten years ago, when he’d rescued a limping puppy on the side of the road, he could never have predicted this would happen. Escorting the _actual_ Oracle around Lucis. 

She was healing people ravaged by Starscourge, slowly making her way towards Lestallum. The rest of the group - Lady _Iris Amicitia_ ’s group - had gone by car directly to the city. 

The radio was announcing the Oracle’s death - as well as the Crown Prince’s. He knew _she_ was alive - as did most of the population - but by official report she remained dead. The prince… well. There were rumours of him Bounting Hunting around in the fancy car. Cindy - the drop-dead gorgeous mechanic at Hammerhead - refused to say anything one way or another. But she’d been making _enquiries_. About _Aero-Wax_ , and the dimensions of a car that sounded suspiciously like the late king’s Regalia. Plus, there was that notebook Umbra ferried back and forth. He was pretty sure it was from the prince. Or… King, really. 

He tried hard not to think about it. If things had gone another way - if he’d followed through with his intentions to befriend the Crown Prince. But he’d been too ashamed of himself, and then when high school came around the prince had gone back to private tutoring. 

He’d be a mess, worrying about his friend, rather than just concerned for his king, for an old school mate. It was bad enough as it was. 

But then Lunafreya forged a covenant with her first Astral. The Archaean. He’d been forced to carry her weak form through the burning crevace. 

She was lying in bed, sweating and pale. The dogs were tucked by her side. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Prompto,” she said, looking up at him. 

He changed the damp cloth on her forehead. “Does this… i mean, has this even happened before? Is this _normal_?” 

“It is,” she said weakly. “A King of Lucis usually receives the Marks of the Astrals over a three year period.It eases the strain on both the king and the Oracle.” 

“But you’re not going to wait six months, are you?” He asked knowingly. 

“There’s no time,” she replied. “The Scourge looms ever closer. The nights grow longer. The time for the King of Light to ascend is upon us.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Deadline. Got it..” He sat back in his seat, taking his tin of polaroids out. “I took some great shots of you today. Wanna pick one out and put it in the book for your _booooyfriend_?” 

She gave a soft, exhaustd smile. “Alright. Show me your works.” 

***

It had been raining for days. Ever since Lunafreya had forged a covenant with he Fulgarian. Finally, they’d gotten word where the prince was. The Chocobo ranch! He’d voltunteered to go, to give the prince her message. It was the _Chocobo Post_ , like he was going to pass that opportunity up! 

He stood by the chocobo pens, in the white hoodie and dark coat Lunafreya had given him to wear. Umbra’s barking came closer, and he felt soft fur brushing against his hand. 

“Luna…?” 

He turned. “Blond, but half as pretty.” 

Blue eyes squinted at him. “Do I… know you?” 

“I’ve been travelling with Lady Lunafreya, keeping her safe.” 

“Can I see her?” The prince… king? asked. 

He grinned. “Before the wedding day?” He asked cheekily. Then he fell serious and shook his head. “Too many Imperials - and there’s the blockades. Lucis just isn’t safe right now.” Not with Lunafreya so weak. 

The prince - king looked petulant, and angry. Prompto didn’t blame him. “When?” 

He smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be in Altissia. The day you guys were meant to get married. But for now?” He pointed to the sky, where lightning struck a very specific place. “The Oracle forged a covenant for you, Majesty. Time to go get your blessing on.” 

The King almost looked like he wanted to be laughing. The muscly guy scowled. “You’re not very reverent, for the messenger of an Oracle.” 

He shrugged. “Aren’t you tired of riddles?” 

The King knelt on one knee before Umbra, getting out the little notebook. Prompto couldn’t resist - he got out his camera and snapped a shot of the smile on his face when he saw the picture of Lunafreya at the Chocobo Post. 

As he took the polaroid it spat out, he noticed the King’s glare - and the muscly guy stepping forward intimidatingly. He quickly handed it to the King. “Here. You can send it back to her. I know she wants more than anything to see you - and a picture is better than not at all.” 

The King looked a little longing as he clipped the photo in and wrote a quick message. He folded the book closed and tucked it into the dog’s pouch. Then he raised his pretty blue eyes to look at Prompto. “Let Luna know…” He paused. “I’m okay, and she won’t have to wait much longer - we’ll be together soon.” 

Prompto nodded. “Altissia, then. Go kick some ass, Majesty.” 

The king’s repressed laughter was even more obvious that time, but his three guards looked at him sourly. The oldest one - dude, was that seriously Cor the Immortal? - took the king’s arm, and they all walked away. 

Prompto headed over to the rental machine, sticking some gil in. It’d be faster than running back, and this way he’d get to spend time with a chocobo of his own. 

He still didn’t get there in time to beat Lord Ravus to her hideout. 

*** 

Prompto, camera in hand, frowned as Lord Ravus stormed past him with a murderous scowl. “Talk some **sense** into her!” 

Confused, he headed in the direction the silver-haired man had come from. He found Lunafreya, standing but hunched over. She was crying, quiet sobs escaping her. 

He stopped a few feet away. “Lunafreya? Why are you crying?” He asked softly. 

She sniffled and tried to dry her eyes. “Forgive me, Prompto. I vowed to only cry where prying eyes cannot see the tears in mine.” 

“Poetic,” he said quietly. “Lunafreya… You know you can cry, right? You’re no different than anyone else.” 

She gave a weak smile. “You’re right. I am no different than them at all. I was exactly what everyone does.” 

He smiled a little. “Happiness?” 

She nodded. “And to be with the one I love.” 

He approached her, and took trembling hands in his. “You mean Prince - uh, _King_ Noctis?” 

She nodded - but then bowed her head. Tears glistened on her cheeks. “But want it though I may, it is not to be.” 

He squeezed her hands between his. “Don’t give up, Lunafreya. You two are _destined_. When we get to Altissia, we’ll get this wedding back on.” 

“Prompto…” She said, giving him a weak smile. 

“It might not be the big fancy royal wedding you guys planned, but you guys can be bound together as man and wife under the eyes of the Astrals.” 

“You’re too kind. I’m so blessed to have you by my side in this trying time.” 

He raised her hands to his lips, and gently kissed them. “I promise, Lady Lunafreya: I’m going to do everything I can to help you with your destiny.” 

***

The strain of the covenants was too much on Lunafreya. She could barely make it to the armchair she slumped in. 

She stirred we Lord Ravus touched her shoulder, almost flinching at the contact of the purpled metal. He quickly let her go, and she groaned weakly as she rolled her head to the side. Weak as a newborn kitten, she held out her outstretched hand to her brother. 

“I beg of you.” Her voice was barely stronger than a whisper. Ravus stepped back, at whatever he saw in the palm of her hand. “Please. See it gets to Noctis.” Her brother walked away, his face twitching with some sort of repressed expression. “...on my behalf.” 

Ravus shot him a glare. He knew it was a command to leave. But as he made move to leave, she begun to pitch forward in her seat. He launched forward to catch her, and settle her back against the cushions. There was something small and round and dark in her hand - but she quickly closed her fingers to hide it from his view. 

She was beseeching her brother again. “Already…” She took a few heavy breaths. “My flesh has begun to fail me.” 

Lord Ravus finally spoke: “No, I cannot accept it.” 

She raised her eyes to him, a weak whimper escaping her parted lips. Then she sobbed and turned her face away, leaning into Prompto for support. 

Ravus continued, his voice just as hard: “by _your_ hand it must be done.” He turned to face her at last. “To inspire the king is _your_ calling. You mustn’t fall.” 

She was trembling. “But I lack the strength to go on.” 

Prompto backed away as Lord Ravus came to kneel before her, and gently took her hands in his. “Find it, Lunafreya,” he said, the whisper still firm. “You have the will. Go to Noctis, show him the truth of your heart.” 

She began to try, leaning into her brother. He let her, untuil she calmed enough to sit back on her own. He turned to give Prompto a cold, unrelenting look. “I am trusting **you** to see her safe to Altissia.” 

He bowed, keeping his eyes politely averted. “If it’s the last thing I do.” 


	2. Second

The King and his retinue showed up in the Leville, the day after the planned date of the Royal wedding. They walked in the doors, and the prince’s eyes immediately locked on him. “Hey.” He spoke as if they were friends, instead of people who’d only met once in their lives.

“It’s Blond-And-Half-As-Pretty,” Muscles said, eyeing him up for weapons. He parted the lapels of his coat to flash the holsters on his hips and received a silent nod of approval. 

Prompto was pretty sure Muscles would’ve been **more** disapproving if he’d had no weapons at all. 

“We were just about the check in,” the third guard with the spectacles said. There was a sort of question in his fancy-accented voice. 

He nodded. “Good idea. You should get settled in.” He looked around and leaned in close so no one would overhear him. “There’s a little golden statue in a small shrine to the Tidemother a few blocks from here that’s _very pretty_ ,” he hinted. “Maybe you and one of your attendants would like to come see it tonight. Say, around midnight?” 

The King’s face was blank as he pulled away, and gave a bland sort of nod. “I’ll take your suggestion into consideration.” 

He nodded. “Weskham knows where, if you decide you want to check it out.” 

Specs glanced between them, eyes narrowing. But he didn’t say anything. Prompto bowed and hurried off. 

Just before midnight, he guided a weak Lunafreya to the secret meeting place. She’d let him weave sylleblossoms into her hair, but currently they were hidden under the hood of his bright yellow ‘Chocobo Jockey’ sweatshirt. 

It was a hard journey to get there - the First Secretary had her guards out scouring the streets from the Oracle. There was a battalion of M.T.s posted somewhere too, though they weren’t roaming the city. 

Minutes before midnight, the King showed up with Specs. Prompto manned one entrance, Specs the other, ignoring the reunion of the King and Oracle as much as possible. To give them what privacy they could. 

Eventually, the priest arrived. By candlelight, they exchanged vows and their first kiss as bride and groom. 

When Prompto looked back on the polaroid years later, the moment was forever tainted with the knowledge that it was the _only_ kiss they ever shared as man and wife. 

***

The city went to hell. M.T.s flooded every street, and the King’s retinue were all busy with the evacuation effort. Prompto clung to the archway at the other end of the Altar, staring at the white-clad figure of Lunafreya as she cowed one of the gods themselves into doing as she bid. In that moment it was hard to remember her as the woman who had clung to him weeping in the airship because every cell in her body _hurt_. 

As soon as the great sea serpent left to fight the King, he struggled against the wind and waves and flying debris to reach her side. Her pretty dress was torn and she was covered in dark bruises. But she stood strong, watching the king - her secret husband - warp around and fight the goddess. 

Until the King was struck down and flew back to land on another platform amongst the rubble. She raced towards him, but after only a few steps her body gave out. He eased her onto her hands and knees, rubbing her back as she coughed and coughed and tried to gain her breath. 

A terrified shiver ran down his spine and when he turned to look, a figure in a ragged black coat was gliding towards them. “Now,” the purple haired man said. He kicked Prompto rouhgly aside and addressed Lunafreya. “About that ring…” 

_What ring?_ He thought, squeezing a badly bruised rib and ushing himself up enough to unholster his gun. 

The man glanced at Prompto, eyes narrowing. “On second thought… let the little prince have it.” 

Before he could even raise his gun, the villain had plunged the sword deep into the Oracle’s stomach. A choked cry escaped her lips. 

In the same calm, purring voice, he continued: “and _do_ remind him about the Crystal.” 

With a disgusting noise, he yanked the blade back out. Released, Lunafreya slumped onto the stone, blood pooling around her. 

The man gave a twisted smirk. Finally able to get a clear shot, Prompto fired off a round of shots - but he didn’t even seem to notice. Looking at Prompto as if he was some sort of annoying bug, he delivered another swift kick. The force cracked his ribs, and had him falling down the stairs, head slamming into a step. 

Ears ringing, he hardly heard the man taunting the King: “oh prince! Your bride awaits! But I don’t think she’s enjoying my wedding gift!” 

Struggling for breath, a hand pressed against her gaping wound, Lunafreya still sounded strong: “I will see the ring passed to the rightful King,” she vowed. 

The man grabbed her chin, but when she held his arm it began to glow like when she was healing the sick. But the man only wore a queer sort of smile. 

“When the prophecy is fulfilled, all in thrall to darkness shall know peace.” 

That made the smile fall off his face. Yanking his hand from her grip, he backhanded her across the face with enough force it loosened her bound hair. 

The man strode away but paused, looking down at the hand her light had touched. Prompto shakily squeezed the trigger of his guns, but only clicks sounded. The clip was empty. 

The man sneered at him. “You did better by the prince’s side, Prompto.” With that cryptic comment, he stepped onto his airship and flew away. 

Prompto crawled back up to Lunafreya’s side. “What can I do? How can I _help_?” 

She leaned weakly against him - grasping towards the trident just too far out of her reach. He grabbed it and pressed it into her hand. He held her steady as she propped the trident up, pointing towards the sky. It glowed with golden light that shot towards the clouds like a beacon. 

Across the water, similar light shot up from where the King was lying too. He floated upward and Prompto couldn’t keep track of the fight that followed. It was all flashing lights and ghosts of weapons. His head hurt, and he did his best to protect Lunafreya from flying debris. 

Things got messed up, fast. M.T.s showed up to take down the sea serpent themselves. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore his spinning head, the ringing in his ears, the thumping in his skull, the throbbing on his head, the waves of nausea... 

Okay so he was doing a _terrible_ job of ignoring. 

He opened his eyes again, eyes darting around to get his bearings. The fight with the Leviathan seemed to be over. But the Arachaean was there now, punching down imperial airships. 

Lunafreya squeezed his hand. “Take me to Noctis,” she pleaded, her voice weak. “Please.” 

The King? He looked around and spotted the limp body lying peacefully a few feet away. When had he landed there? 

He lifted her weight into his arms and knee-shuffled over to his side. She tumbled away from his grip and pressed her forehead against his. She murmured a sprayer and the two of them began to glow. 

When the light faded out, she slumped over. Prompto hurried to catch her before she hit the stones. “We need to get you out, find some help. You’re wounded.” 

The blood was sluggishly pumping out across her dress now, instead of gushing, and it was terrifying. he gripped his face in a weak hand. “It’s too late for that, my dear Prompto. Even if I weren’t wounded, I doubt it would matter.” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head rapidly. “You’ve just reunited with your Noctis.” 

Her breathing rattled and he felt terror gripping his chest. The hand touching his cheek fell down and she whimpered. “Prompto,” she said quietly. “I need you to go on for me.” 

“I can’t!” he protested. 

“You promised me that you would do anything to help me fulfil my destiny,” she reminded him. 

“I meant the you-and-Noctis stuff,” he replied, panicked. “Lunafreya… I’m just a liberated M.T.! I can’t do what you can do!” 

She leaned up, pressing their foreheads together. “You are capable of so much more than you understand. I need you to fulfil my duties - my destiny, as you swore.” 

He sobbed weakly. “Okay. Okay. I’ll do everything I can.” 

“Repeat after me.” They swore oaths, and he was bound as her messenger. He felt his skin tingling, hair standing on end as power swept through him. 

Lunafreya, his Oracle, slumped down in his arms, without the strength to hold herself up. “I bless the day you were brought unto my life, Prompto.” She pressed her hand into his. Something round and hard pressed against his palm. “Alright I am fading. We have only moments.” Her hand dropped down and he saw the fancy black ring in his hand.”You must deliver the Ring of the Lucii unto the King of Light when the time comes for his ascension. You cannot allow it to fall into the wrong hands.” 

“I won’t,” he promised. 

“You must go into Niflheim. At the Ghorvorus Rift you will find the slain corpse of the Frost Giantess.” She gasped noisily and held out one hand to grasp the air. Her trident materialised in her grip and her arm dropped with the weight of it. “You must forge the final covenant on my behalf. Then present the Trident to the King so that he may add it to his arsenal of ancestral weapons.” 

He was crying, even as he nodded. He gripped the trident in one hand and eased the weight away from her. “I’ll do this for you.” 

She gave him a weak smile, breath stuttering. “Tell Noctis… Tell him I love him.” 

Breath hitching, he nodded. “I will. I promise.” 

She smiled at him, and then her eyes slowly closed. 

***

Prompto forged the covenant with the Glacian, and slept for two whole days. He nearly froze to death. He was pretty sure the only reason he survived was because Umbra and Pryna had curled into his side to keep him warm. 

The hike back up to the train station was brutal. He felt ten years older overnight. Lunafreya had done _five_ of those. It was amazing she’d gotten through as many as she had. She was so admirable. He missed her so much. 

Trident strapped to his back, pelted by hail and gale-force winds, he climbed up the side of the forge to the ice-ravaged train station. He sat down and kicked out the planks of wood in a bench to build himself a fire. 

A train screeched to a stop along the railway tracks, stopped by the blockade of ice ahead. A nearby door squealed as it was thrust open. The King stood in the doorway, dressed in a puffy grey jacket. “You again?” 

“Hey,” he said, shivering. “Ready to face your revelation? The Glacian is waiting.” 

The King’s face twisted up with grief. “The Oracle is dead.” 

He felt the words like a punch to the stomach. “I know,” he said quietly. “But I promised Lunafreya I’d fulfil her destiny. Please.” 

The King sighed forcefully. “Gladio. Iggy. You work on defrosting the tracks. I’ll go with Blondie here.” 

“Right.” He adjusted the straps holding the wrapped trident on. “We’re going into the train is all. No whisking him away into the Wilderness.” 

Once they were alone in the compartment, Prompto shrugged off the back carrier. He started singing the Glacian’s Song - his voice was nowhere as nice as Lunafreya’s, but it did the job. 

The King grabbed his head and yelled in pain. When he dropped his hands, he muttered: “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

“What?” Prompto asked. But then his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. 

The King had started stripping out of his clothes. Prompto covered his eyes with an embarrassed squeak - but not before he caught sight of pale, smooth skin and compact muscles. There were retreating footsteps and the air got colder and colder. 

Just as he thought his fingers might fall off, the King gave a pained yell and the temperature dropped down to the regular level of frigid. 

“H-help.” 

He jerked his head up, panicked. The King was slumped on the ground - his body was nipped with white frost, his lips blue. With a curse, he snatched up the King’s closed and raced to his side. He unzipped his jacket and pulled the naked body against his own. 

“I’m pretty sure this is some kind of treason.” The King’s voice was slurred, a bad sign.

“Saving your life?” He snorted. “I’m using my body heat to raise your core temperature,” he explained. “Too much too fast and it’ll shock your system. 

The King grunted. There was a flash of white-blue light and a thermal sleeping bag appeared in a roll beside them. “Use that.” 

“Flashing magical sleeping bag summoning powers. That’s convenient.” He shook it out and did his best to cover the King and himself with it. 

“It’s meant for storing weapons,” he explained, sounding much more awake now. “But we added some camping essentials so we didn’t have to keep lugging stuff back and forth from the car.” 

The carriage door opened to let in Muscles and Specs. They stopped as they saw the two of them, the former shifting into a fighting stance.” 

“Relax, Gladio,” the King called. “I’m hypothermic. He’s just warming me up.” 

Muscles grunted. “Why didn’t you just cast a fire spell?” 

“Because that would send his body into _shock_ , Gladiolus,” Specs answered seriously. 

Prompto twitched at the name. “Wait. Gladiolus _Amicitia_?” 

Muscles glared at him suspiciously. “What’s it to you?” 

“Nothing. Just… did Lady Iris get to Lestallum okay?” 

There was an intense silence. “You’re Prompto Argentum.” The King shifted to look up at him. “ _You’re_ the one who got everyone out of Insomnia?” 

“Well. Not _everyone_ ,” he answered. “There was a water way operation too. But Lady Iris and her retinue, yeah. And…” His breath hitched. “And the Oracle too. Then she asked me to travel with her. To protect her.” 

The King’s expression changed from gratitude to fury. “Well you did a shitty fucking job!” The King vanished the sleeping bag and started yanking on his clothes. “You her her _die_! Ardyn _killed_ her and got away with the Ring!” 

He opened his mouth to argue, but instead choked as Muscles yanked him up by the collar. 

“You better go find another compartment, Blondie. We’ll take care of him.” 

He nodded and headed back to his pile of stuff. Glancing back at them, he unwrapped the trident and leant it against the train wall. “She wanted you to have this, too.” 

Without a word, he turned and let himself out through the doors.


	3. Third

He waited in Zagnatus Keep when a familiar sound pierced the air. He recognised it - it had sounded in Insomnia the afternoon the Wall had fallen. He had a bad feeling about this. 

When he reached the ground-level entrance, he realised what was going on. The King was _running_ from a hoard of daemons. Not fighting. 

He fired off a burst of quick shots, each one hitting deadly aim between the daemon’s eyes. They dissolved into black tar and smoke. The King panted, looking up at him. 

“Prompto?” He asked, disbelieving. 

“Your majesty.” He jogged down the last few steps and pressed his left-hand gun into his hand. 

“How’d you get here before us?” The King demanded. 

“Bending the laws of time and space,” he shrugged. “I don’t know. Oracle powers? Messenger stuff?” He turned back to the metal stairs and led the way up. “I can go back, but then I need to reset. I got here… two weeks from now? I think? Don’t think about it too hard, hurts my head. 

The King just stared at him incredulously. 

He just shrugged again. “Your magic’s stopped working, hasn’t it?” 

“How’d you know?” 

“There’s this sound inside,” he answered. “Heard it before they took the Wall down. I’m guessing it does something to your royal magic or whatever. A machine or something.” 

“Can we find it? And shut it down?” 

“Yeah.” He closed the door on the first empty room they came across, lit brightly enough to chase away the daemons. “Don’t you wanna wait for Muscles and Specs?” 

“I…” He looked torn. “We got separated. I don’t even know if they’re _alive_.” 

“They are. I saw them. ...will see them?” Ugh, time travel. He shook the thoughts free. “We can find a surveillance room after we’ve shut down the machine, I guess…” 

The King nodded at him. “Then I need to find Ardyn and get my ring back.” 

“Right. You never let me explain before you had Muscles push me out.” He reached into his shirt and tugged out the long chain. The black ring dangled from it, heavier than it should have been. “This, right? Lunafreya tasked me with delivering it to you. I figured it has to be special, right?” 

The King stared at him, then down at the ring between them. “You have it.” 

“I tried to tell you. But you blew up at me instead. I mean… I get it: I messed up. I didn’t stop - what did you call him? Ardyn?” 

He nodded. “Imperial Chancellor Ardyn Izunia. He’s the one who did _everything_. Negotiated the bullshit treaty, made sure I was on the right track with the Astrals, and Luna…” His voice grew tight with grief. “And Cor…” 

“What happened to The Immortal?” Prompto asked quietly. 

“He… I pushed him off the train,” the King answered, distraught. “He… Ardyn _made_ me. He tricked me, somehow he made himself _look_ like Cor, and Cor looked like him, and I…” 

Prompto reached out to touch his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey. That’s not your fault. It’s Ardyn’s. He’s fine, right? The Immortal?” 

“Yeah. He called me. But it doesn’t take back what I did.” 

He patted his shoulder, then dropped his hand down. “You can make it up to him.” He took the chain off over his head and held it out to him. “It’s time for you to take this, your majesty.” 

*** 

The bunks were uncomfortable, and there were no blankets. They spent maybe ten minutes shivering and tossing in separate bunks before the King sighed. 

“Just… come here, would you? I’m used to sharing a tent with three older men for months. This is nothing.” 

“Kinky,” Prompto said through chattering teeth. He yanked the lumpy excuse of a pillow up and crossed over to the bed. He aimed for the tail end, but the King grabbed his sleeve and pulled him up. “What, no stinky feet in the face of the King?” 

“Preferably not.” He shuffled over to the other side of the mattress to give Prompto more room. “It’s freezing in here.” 

“Could use your magic sleeping bag powers right now,” Prompto agreed. “Here. Take your jacket thing off.” He unbuckled his coat and draped it over their legs. He tucked the King’s short-sleeved jacket around his shoulders and torso instead. Keep his arms warm at least. “There you are, Majesty. Should keep you warmer.” 

“Can you… quit it with the ‘majesty’ shit?” The King grumbled. “Just call me ‘Noct’.” 

“Okay. Noct.” He shifted, trying to make himself as comfortable as he could. 

The King - Noct. Noct watched him silently for a few long moments. “Can you…” He trailed off. “Luna. Can you… Was she happy?” 

Prompto offered out his hand. “Take this.” 

The King hesitated, hen reached out his hand. Prompto threaded their fingers together and closed his eyes. Travelling back was a weird sensation - and he’d never doubled up like this. 

The salt in the air told him he’d got there. 

“Altissia?” The King asked. 

“Yeah. It’s gonna be different with you along for the journey. I tried it out with Lord Ravus but it didn’t quite work the same. Nothing we do here is going to change things - but _you’ll_ remember.” 

“Where’s Luna?” The King asked desperately. “Where is she?” 

*** 

They went back and forth over and over again. To Lucis and Altissia. Noct trained with the gun and the Ring. He fished - a _lot_. Prompto got to know Iggy and Gladio and Cor, travelling around with the group in the fancy car like he was one of them. They took hunts, ran errands for friends, checked out everything they had an inclination for. In Altissia, he holed up with Lunafreya and they shut out the world. 

But Prompto was getting weaker with each trip. In one of their drops back to Zegnautus, Noct frowned at him. He reached up and toyed a bit of hair between his fingers. “Your… your hair is white. This part right here.” 

“Premature greying?” 

“It wasn’t there before. We’ve spent a lot of time face-to-face in this bed, Prompto. I’d have noticed it before.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know, Noct. Messengers aren’t usually made from living beings. Using all those magics takes it out of me, you know.” 

“You’re saying that… You taking me back is doing this?” Noct asked. He could _hear_ the guilt in his voice. 

“Don’t do that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Like you don’t already have the weight of saving the entire world on your shoulders. You don’t need to worry about one liberated M.T. too.” He offered him his hand again. “Where to this time?” 

Noct’s forehead furrowed, then he sighed. “Altissia. I wanna see Luna.” 

The King only spent an hour or so in the Safe House before he emerged again, teary-eyed but resolved. “Okay. Let’s go back.” 

Prompto took his hand and closed his eyes. He sighed, exhausted, when he felt the shitty mattress underneath him. “I need to sleep,” he mumbled. “We’ve been at it for hours.” 

“At _what_ , precisely?” 

Prompto jumped, startled, and looked over at the door. Iggy and Gladio were in the doorway. “Oh. Hey.” He grinned back at Noct. “They found us first.” 

“Really sounds like you two have been doing a lot of _searching_ ,” Gladio said, dripping with sarcasm. “Forget about your _wife_ so soon, highness?” 

“You’re an asshole, Gladio,” Noct muttered. “We’re clothed. Okay?” 

He grunted in answer. “You forget we’re on a mission to get your ring and your crystal back from Chancellor Asshole?” 

“He already has the ring, and we know how to get to the Crystal.” Prompto explained. He shifted to pull his boots on. “But we’re looking for the machine first. The one that’s blocking Noct’s powers.” 

“You look exhausted - and grey-haired,” Gladio remarked. “You’re no good to anyone this way. You should stay here and rest.” 

Prompto shook his head and got to his feet. “I’ve got the magic key to all the doors,” he replied, holding up his bare wrist. “How do you think you’re gonna get around without me?” 

*** 

He separated from them when they shut down the machine. They could get to the Crystal themselves - Ardyn was leading them there. The whole trip was plagued by his voice over the intercom system, and they did their best to ignore him. The camaraderie between him and Noct was still there, after the equivalent of weeks spending time in each other’s constant company. But his jokes towards Iggy and Gladio were strained. They weren’t there yet. They might not ever be. 

He headed back to the present, exhausted. His eyes found Ignis and Gladio sitting nearby at the little campfire they’d built up. Gladio came over, frowning at him. “What happened to you?” He asked. 

“Huh?” He asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “What do you mean?” 

Gladio leaned over and tugged a clump of hair on the side of his face in one meaty fist. Surprisingly gentle - more Gladio of the fake-past than Gladiolus the Shield. “Your hair’s white.” 

“Oh. That. The burden of time travel and manipulating the timeline.” He’d grabbed a fair bit more than Noct had pulled. He’d check a mirror at some point. He sat up and stretched out aching muscles and creaking bones. “You two weren’t here when I left.” 

“What do you mean?” Ignis asked, bringing over a bowl of warmed soup. “We waited for you, after Noct… after Noct.” 

“What? What happened to Noct? You never did tell me before.” He sat with them near the fire. It sunk into his bones and chased away a deep-set chill. He sipped the soup and looked between them. “No… before I saw you on the tracks back to Tennebrae…” 

“The burden of manipulating the timeline?” Ignis suggested. “No, we waited here for you. It didn’t seem right leaving you alone after you helped Noct so much at the Keep. Who knows how we would’ve gotten around without your _key_ input.” 

He grinned. Iggy’s puns were life. “Thanks for dinner. I’d better sleep and then get back to it. There are… things. I should tell Noct.” He hadn’t… found the right moment. Before. 

“About being swallowed up by the crystal, you mean?” Gladio grunted irritably. 

“...among other things,” he murmured. “How much do you two know about what he’s going to have to do…?” 

*** 

Noct came into the Crystal chamber alone. Gladio and Iggy were floors below, fighting with the hoards of daemons. 

The King almost melted with relief when he saw Prompto standing at the end of the gangway. “You’re here,” he murmured. “I was wondering when you’d show up again.” A smile quirked across his lips. 

“I couldn’t let you go through this part alone,” he said quietly. “Couldn’t let you face this part without knowing what you were in for.” 

“What do you mean?” Noct asked, forehead wrinkling up in confusion. 

Prompto offered his hand forward. “Come here,” he said gently. 

Noct didn’t even hesitate. He came forward and happily handed himself over. Prompto almost wished he hadn’t. Wished he had just a little hesitation, in giving himself so willingly over to Prompto. All that time travel hand-holding must’ve warped his trust. 

“I’m guessing that no one would have told you about what’s going to happen now. What you’re supposed to be doing, to fulfil your own destiny?” He asked, his voice soft. 

Noct frowned. “What are you talking about?” He asked. “I’m just here to use the crystal to help get rid of the daemons.” 

“No,” he said quietly. “That’s not what’s going to happen. I’m sorry.” He led Noct over to the crystal, he could feel the light tugging at the prince’s body. “Lunafreya would’ve told you, if she could.” 

“Told me _what_ , Prompto? What’s going to happen?” 

“You’re going to go away for a long time,” he said quietly. “To gather power, and prepare for your ascension. For what you must do.” 

“I can’t. We’re in the middle of a war. There’s no _time_...!” 

He looked sad, letting go of Noct’s hand. “There isn’t,” he said quietly. “And I wish there was, Noct. But you have to do this now.” He turned back to the crystal. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Noct. I think it has to be now. I’m sorry.” 

“But what about Gladio and Iggy? I’m supposed to get rid of the daemons so we can get out here.” 

“They’re okay, I promise.” He reassured him. “They were okay when I left and they’ll be find when I go back..” 

“How long am I going to be in here for? What’s going to happen while I’m gone?” The King asked, staring up at the crystal in dread. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I can’t tell you. I only learned a bit from Lunafreya, and Lord Ravus told me a little more. But…” He glanced at Noct. “There’s more,” he added reluctantly. 

“What more could there _possibly_ be?” Noct demanded, a low growl in his voice. 

“When you come back, it’s not for good,” he explained quietly. “There’s a blood price, for banishing the Scourge. You have to pay it.” 

Noct looked back at him. “Are you...saying what I think you are?” 

“Probably. If you think I’m telling you that you’ve gotta sacrifice yourself to save the world.” He said, bluntly. He didn’t dare look back at Noct, didn’t _want_ to see the expression on his face. “It’s not fair. And if _I_ could find some way to change your fate, I would.” 

“Then help me,” Noct whispered, sounding desperate. “I don’t want to die.” 

Prompto felt the words like a physical blow. Like the king’s distress and grief was his own. “I can’t Noct. It’s my duty to make sure you fulfil your destiny. I have no choice but to side with the gods on this one.”

But he wished he did. It wasn’t fair Noct had to vanish for a decade, to die mere hours afterward. Noct was just a lazy teenager who loved fishing and video games and his late wife. He should have every opportunity for happiness, to live his life how he wanted. But instead he couldn’t. He had to die, to pay the price for saving the world. 

Noct summoned a huge sword and started slashing at the chains holding the crystal up. His voice tore with a scream of rage that ravaged his throat. When he dropped his greatsword, exhausted, his voice was a ruined whisper. 

“You’ll take care of Gladio and Iggy for me, won’t you?” He begged. 

They could take care of themselves. Noct had to know that. But… “Yeah. I will, I promise.”

Noct grabbed his jacket and yanked him closer, until their lips were pressed together. Prompto made a surprised noise, but it was less than a second before he was melting into the desperate need for contact. What was this for Noct? Reaching through him to share a moment with Lunafreya one last time? One last hurrah before he had to face his destiny?

He let Noct finger him open - the armiger definitely had way more than weapons and camping gear stored. They rocked together beside the crystal, light and mist swirling around the chamber. Noct was crying, but he never took his eyes away from Prompto’s. There was something needy, longing in his gaze. 

Prompto didn’t have words for it, but somehow it felt like they’d done this a thousand times over. Even if it was their first time. 

Afterward, Noct pulled his clothes back into order. His face was still damp, but he shot Prompto a half-quirked smile before he stepped into the growing fissure of blinding white light. 

*** 

Ten long years. The sun never rose once. Working with Gladiolus and Ignis and Iris the Demonslayer and Cor the Still-Immortal to combat the demon hoards that grew from the population that weren’t lucky enough to last. Rebuilding the light network spiderwebbing out from Lestallum. 

And then he woke up one morning and knew it was time. He left Gladio and Iggy at Hammerhead and walked to what was left of Galdin Quay. The repaired Royal Vessel was bobbing at the pier, and he drove it over to Angelgard. For the first time in centuries, it allowed someone near. 

He stood in front of the crumbling structure of the old prisoner and waited. 

Moments later King Noctis, aged and grubby, appeared in the doorway. His breath stuttered as blue eyes studied the changed face of the mostly-blond. 

Prompto didn’t need to say anything. Silently, he smiled and offered Noct his hand. 


End file.
